Crossroad
by darthvair65
Summary: When Axel says 'the past came back to haunt us,' he means it literally. KH/Supernatural mashup, charity fic for help japan.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Crossroad  
>Pairing: AxelRoxas

Warnings: Supernatural mash-up, language, allusions to sex, innuendo, demonic possession, death.  
>Rating: PG-13R  
>Beta: the BetaMistress alovelysilence<br>A/N: Charity fic for pro_kira, who decided she wanted the boys as hunters in the world of Supernatural.  
>Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts, but I do get a kick out of writing for the fandom. I also don't own Supernatural or Final Fantasy. Also, 'Pazuzu' is the demon from <em>The Exorcist<em>.

**Summary: **When Axel says 'the past came back to haunt us,' he means it literally.

Axel and Roxas had been working jobs together for almost three years by the time _something _caught up with them. It was creeping up out of the corner of Axel's peripheral vision, but when he actually looked it was gone. Hunting supernatural entities never really made them any friends, other than the human or two they saved per job – hell's denizens were usually a different case entirely. But somewhere between Gettysburg and Lowell, between a nasty Civil-War era colonel and a Djinn haunting an old, empty mill building, Axel realized that they might have really have a problem.

It had started with a few minor omens, violent concentrated storms and the like – then Roxas began seeing people spontaneously burst into flames, a vision Axel himself never witnessed. But it certainly startled him, and for a guy who'd dealt with a fully-transformed werewolf shrieking in his face without so much as batting an eye, that alone put Axel on edge. Mostly though, he hoped figured it had something to do with Colonel Whats-his-face and his haunted battlefield-turned-campground, even though Roxas had seen such things years before.

As they drove farther north though, the omens took a more dramatic turn. The Djinn case had been difficult, even somewhat harrowing to a degree. Roxas had been thrown halfway across the floor while the Djinn's twisted, tattooed hand wrapped around Axel's throat and started to squeeze. Axel was already a bit dazed (his head had met a pillar pretty hard earlier) and the hand holding the knife was immobilized; all he could think was _fuck fuck fuck, I'm dead_ until Roxas leapt out of fucking nowhere, a blur of blond and black, and stabbed the Djinn in the back with an enraged scream.

A hard-won, successful hunt deserved a little reward – Axel figured the only thing they were going to get from the police was an arrest warrant for trespassing, and Roxas was giving him that _I'm going to fuck you in the back seat of the Camero in approximately now_ look so that was that. They barely made it back to the motel before Roxas started tearing articles of clothing off, had just opened the door when Roxas broke their heated kiss and shoved him towards the bed.

It was after, when they were curled up together sweaty and sated, with Roxas' cheek pillowed against Axel's chest, that the motel phone rang. Roxas' eyes snapped open, staring widely at the still-ringing phone. It was three in the morning – who the fuck was calling?

Axel grunted, the obnoxious continued ringing rousing him from sleep. He mumbled something that sounded like a very colorful curse, huffed into the tufts of Roxas' hair close to his mouth, then rolled over. Roxas rolled his eyes, and reached across the redhead's tattooed back for the phone. " 'lo?" he muttered warily.

The response wasn't human. Roxas jerked the phone away from his ear as the raging sounds of static and unearthly screams filtered through at a high volume. Panicking Roxas dropped the phone and scrambled over Axel's body, even as the redhead tried to sit up. The blond tore the phone wires directly out of the wall, smashing the receiver into bits.

The room was silent for a moment, save for Roxas' heavy breathing. Axel stared at him, realizing quickly what this might be. "That's it, isn't it?" he breathed, swallowing thickly.

Roxas' cell phone went off; there was an unregistered number on the caller id. "Don't answer it," Axel whispered. "It's just fucking with you."

"Then what should I-"

"Kill the phone. We'll get you a new one. Let's get moving."

They left the old industrial city behind, leaving nothing more than a few false names and two destroyed phones in their wake.

0o0

Three and a half years ago, Axel fancied himself a decent solitary hunter. He'd been raised and trained by one of the best after his parents were killed by a demon. Reno had sent him on his way well stocked with supernatural knowledge and keen fighting skills, though he could have done with a better car. Eventually he bought his own, a newer Camero he had modified to his liking.

Roxas ended up being one of his cases.

He'd been traveling through Louisiana when he caught word of a demonic possession unlike any he'd heard of before. It wasn't a case of some lowlife from Hell taking a new meatsuit for a ride - it was a full-on impossible contortions, strap-your-limbs-down, Pazuzu-style possession. The kid and his family had moved to the Big Easy when they started to think their house up north was haunted; when they arrived in Louisiana Roxas' mother said she'd found him scuttling on the floor like some kind of animal, eyes glowing, and he'd bent backward at an impossible angle just to tease her, cackling madly. When Axel – dressed in his best clerical garb, going by 'Father Michaels' for the moment - asked how they finally restrained him, she revealed tearfully that the previous priest had dumped a bucket of holy water on the boy, temporarily immobilizing him with searing pain. That was before the possessed boy tore the priest's throat out with his teeth.

When Axel arrived he would have guessed the kid was almost gone. The demon had wasted him away, leaving the eighteen year old skin and bones, his hair dirty and every inch of his skin was waxy and sunken. His wrists and ankles were bleeding from his struggles against the restraints, and were twisting still despite the pain when Axel walked in. There was a mere second's delay where the boy – or what remained of him – peered out from behind striking, hollow blue eyes before the demon took over again, twisting his features and glaring out with mad black eyes. _He's mine, _the demon had growled; now Axel hated demons on principle, but what he hated more was a _cocky_ demon.

Axel managed to do what the priests couldn't and finally exorcised the demon, but the damage had been done. The boy's parents wouldn't have him anymore; he was cursed, not even the other people in town would have anything to do with him.

Somehow the kid – _"my name's Roxas, you phony-ass priest"_ – ended up riding shotgun and made himself Axel's unofficial apprentice. With several liberal meals of diner food – fried chicken, meatloaf, seafood, mashed potatoes, the works – the kid started filling out and looking less like he'd narrowly escaped death by starvation. A trip to visit Reno at Seventh Heaven had given him an anti-possession tattoo, and a little while later a close call with a vampire landed Axel in the blond's bed, though he certainly wasn't going to complain about that development – not when Roxas was tracing the intricate patterns of tattoos across his shoulders and the small of his back with the light touch of his finger, sending pleasurable chills up his spine.

They were fine for a while, great even – they made a great team, and Axel never considered working cases solo from that point on. But if Roxas' demon had reemerged, things were about to get dicey real fast. He drove at breakneck speed towards Seventh Heaven, a bar favored by the hunters in Reno's circle that served as a veritable bunker against demons and all manner of unearthly things.

When Axel was stuck with Reno Seventh Heaven had been their base, a safe haven with arcane symbols repelling anything demonic painted into the walls, devil's traps at every single entry point to keep the filth out. In his youth Axel had seen a swarm of demons try to run it into the ground, but the supernatural barricades held. Axel credited Tifa, the owner and bartender, with this feat thanks to her extensive knowledge of magic and demonology, as well as the 'NO BULLSHIT' sign she practically carried around and the multitude of shotguns she kept behind the bar.

Reno's guard dogs met them at the door, howling and barking happily until Reno whistled sharply from the other end of the bar; both German shepherd mixes quieted instantly and trotted back to their owner, who was sitting back in his bar stool smoking, his long red hair still pulled back in its trademark ponytail. His partner Rude was examining a map beside him.

"Long time, no see kid," Reno said by way of greeting. Then he raised an eyebrow quirkily. "You two idiots _still _together?"

"I'm not in market for a new partner," Roxas responded with a tight smile, "and even if I was, you wouldn't be my first choice." Axel had to give him credit, when he'd first met Reno he couldn't keep up with his snide remarks; now he handled them rather well.

Reno snorted. "Kid's got quite a mouth on him," he commented.

"Does he? Really?" Axel asked mockingly, slinging his arm around Roxas' shoulders as he took a seat next to Reno. "Two beers," he signaled to Tifa while Reno bemoaned his word choice.

"Now Axel, you know I don't serve to minors," Tifa said, handing him a bottle.

Roxas pouted. "I'm twenty-one already, give me a beer."

"No really, just give him the beer," Axel turned to her seriously. It had been a very, very long trip to Seventh Heaven since Roxas was on edge and hyper-alert the whole way. "The demon spawn I exorcised from him three years ago is back on our trail," he said by way of explanation.

"That is the second time those fucking idiots have screwed things up," Reno growled, taking a deep drink of his beer. "Fucking Winchesters never learn. First they open the gates of Hell itself, then they get Lucifer all in a tizzy. I'm not surprised it came back."

"That would explain why it's suddenly back on our trail," Axel sighed. "We came to see if you'd heard anything new that might give us something to work with."

Reno tilted his head towards his partner. "Anything lately, Rude?"

"The Four Horsemen," Rude answered, trailing his finger over different parts of the map. "Nothing that matches their demon that I know of."

"Cloud's been out on the hunt more than me lately," Reno shrugged. "Oi, Spike!," he shouted, looking back towards the back corner of the bar, where one of the regulars sat cleaning his guns, a malamute at his side.

"I'll check over my notes," Cloud answered impassively, not pausing in cleaning his guns.

"Ok," Axel nodded. "You have a room open?" he asked Tifa, who was just handing Roxas his beer.

"You have enough cash?" she countered. "We don't take credit cards."

"Whaaaaat?" Axel scoffed. "I'm practically family! Don't you trust me?"

"Of course I trust you, honey," Tifa said sweetly, lowering her eyelashes coyly and leaning against the bar to display ample cleavage. "Just not your credit balance. Don't want the Feds knocking on my door, no thank you. Cash, up front."

Axel sighed and pulled out his wallet, unfolding a couple of bills. "God help you, Cloud. Your girl's a wily one."

Cloud paused; "God can't help any of us now," he said sullenly, which earned him a dirty rag to the face from Tifa.

0o0

They woke to Reno and Cloud's dogs barking in the middle of the night. Roxas had nearly flown out of Axel's arms, gun in hand, at the sound, awaking Axel in the process as well. They hastily pulled on jeans and shirts then headed down into the main bar area, meeting Cloud and Tifa along the way.

"Think you brought some company, Axel," Reno snapped when they got to the foot of the stairs, the barrel of his gun aimed at the open door and the figure poised at its threshold.

"No one I invited," Axel responded, shoving Roxas behind him roughly.

"Fuck you," Roxas grumbled viciously, breaking his grip and moving to stand beside him.

"That's the spirit, Roxas!" an unfamiliar voice cheered sarcastically from the open door. "Oh my, my, look how you've grown." The figure took better shape after a moment, that of a middle-aged man – balding, with pure black eyes and a toothy grin.

Axel felt Roxas freeze beside him, saw his hands begin to shake. "Come back for seconds, bitch?" Axel jeered; if he'd done away with this fucker once, he could do it again.

"Second time is always the charm," the demon snapped, a wide grin on his face. Then he stepped forward, right into the trap set at the door. "Well what d'ya know, a Devil's Trap," he said in mock disappointment. "Gosh darn it, you got me."

"What do you want?" Reno demanded.

The demon just smiled. "Infant," he responded derisively, spitting on the floor. "I'm just here to deliver a message." His black eyes travelled and found Axel, still keeping Roxas behind him. "Hey there, Roxie," he purred, licking his lips. "So nice to see you again - may I say, you look _delicious._"

"_FUCKER!"_ Roxas screamed suddenly, firing his gun and catching the demon's human captive right between the eyes. Before he could fire another shot Axel grabbed him again and pushed him safely in the background. Meanwhile the demon shrugged the bullet wound off, saving the damage for when it left the body it was using.

"Well that's no way to greet an old friend," it simpered.

"Out with it," Tifa shouted, stalking up to the demon and putting the business end of her shotgun within a foot of his head. "What do you want?"

"I wasn't quite finished with you yet," the demon said, gaze still focused on where Roxas was being hidden behind Axel's back. "Got cockblocked by a puny human with delusions of heroic grandeur," he continued, eyeing Axel dangerously. "Coitus interruptus, if you will. I bet you taste even better though, now that you've had a little more…experience."

"Well guess what?" Roxas raged, even almost laughing. "You can't possess me anymore! My soul is _mine_ now."

"Who says I need to possess you? Have you spoken with your family lately, Roxie?" the demon asked, almost off-hand as he examined his human host's nails.

"They shunned me. They're not my family."

"Maybe so, but-"

"Can we put a lid on this idiot?" Cloud interjected loudly. "Why the hell are we talking to it? If you would be so kind, Tifa?" Tifa immediately began to chant one of her more powerful exorcising spells.

"You can't run forever," the demon continued ranting at Roxas, ignoring Tifa. "And he's certainly not going to protect you forever. You think you can defeat me? You'll never escape, and when the day comes I'll tear you up from the inside-" then its mouth opened grotesquely, and the black smoke that made up the demon poured from its host's mouth until the man fell dead and the smoke dissipated.

"Well," Reno said, clearing his throat. "That was interesting."

Tifa handed Axel and Roxas shovels. "You two can take care of the body," she said simply and followed the other two back up to their rooms.

"Wait, how did I end up doing the dirty work too?" Axel demanded jokingly. Roxas' hand on his arm stopped him. "Hey, what's up?" he asked quietly, his tone softening.

"Don't leave me," Roxas murmured.

"Of course not," Axel answered cavalierly. "You're stuck with me, remember?"

"On second thought," Roxas made a show of rethinking his decision, chuckling to himself.

"Shut it," Axel said, leaning down to see what the best way to carry the body would be. "We'll find a way, and you know it."

"You know, I think maybe we better use Reno's car for this. Don't want the Camero's seats getting all bloodied."

"You know, I like the way you think," Axel said with a broad, scheming grin as he hefted the body up.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Crossroad  
>Pairing: AxelRoxas

Warnings: Supernatural mash-up, language, allusions to sex, innuendo, demonic possession, death.  
>Rating: PG-13R  
>AN: Continuation of a charity fic for pro_kira, who decided she wanted the boys as hunters in the world of Supernatural.  
>Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts, but I do get a kick out of writing for the fandom. I also don't own Supernatural or Final Fantasy. Stieg Larsson owns the character of Lisbeth Salander.<p>

**Summary: **When Axel says 'the past came back to haunt us,' he means it literally. – Following a close call with Roxas' former possessor, he and Axel head for the place where it all began.

Part 2

The early hours of the morning found Roxas in the driver's seat of the Camero, gunning the engine down the luckily deserted stretch of highway, the headlights of Axel's car boring into and penetrating the rising fog before the car cut through it. Roxas was driving at breakneck speed, eyes focused totally on the road ahead despite the rising panic in the pit of his stomach. He didn't dare let his vision flicker to the rearview mirror or to the seat beside him.

There are many things wrong with this picture.

First and most important of all, Roxas didn't drive the Camero. Axel didn't like anyone else driving his baby, even Roxas. But since Roxas sometimes had to play the role of the get-away driver in their hunting plans Axel had given him basic lessons about driving it.

Furthermore the reason _why_ Roxas was driving the Camero because Axel was slumped in the passenger seat, with towels staunching the blood flow from the wounds in his neck that extended to the juncture at his shoulder.

The demon Axel had exorcised from Roxas three years ago had stepped up its game; he and Axel had been sitting in a late-night diner when a passing waitress pulled a shotgun out of nowhere and fired directly at Axel's head. Their combined reflexes saved him from getting a skull full of pellets; Axel dodged just in time, his movements supplemented by Roxas tugging him away from the blast and out the door immediately. Roxas was bleeding slightly himself, but not enough to warrant as much concern as his partner did.

"Rox," Axel groaned softly, shifting his grip on the towel that was slowly blossoming red at his neck.

"Shut up," Roxas growled, twisting his hands on the steering wheel. "Shut up, stop talking you idiot," he continued, pressing the gas pedal to the floor.

"Don't," Axel growled, licking his lips and clenching his teeth. "Fuck up my car," he finished, glaring out of the corner of his eye.

Roxas snarled at him again, words harsh and half-formed between his lips.

The tires squealed as Roxas pulled off the main road towards what he hoped might be a motel of some kind and wondering how the bastard kept finding them.

0o0

After confronting Roxas' demon in Tifa's bar, Axel laid everything out for him.

Originally, when Roxas first attached himself to Axel a few years ago, he wanted nothing to do with the thing that had possessed him. He made it specifically clear that he wasn't ready – but once they got back to the bar from dumping the latest casualty of the war against demons in a ditch a couple miles from Seventh Heaven, Axel handed over all of his notes, observations, and materials from Roxas' particularly difficult exorcism. If they both understood what they were up against, maybe they stood a better chance at taking the sucker down one last time.

Roxas' demon had its own section on Axel's hunting log, multiple pages long but still lacking definitive facts about it. There was no name that he'd learned, just little things he'd picked up on in his research. It was a higher-level motherfucker, something from way out of the Middle Ages that fed on pure hearts. It had wasted Roxas away probably out of boredom, and it was probably pretty fun for it to watch Roxas' family squirm. It liked to take a human host and suck the life from the unlucky bastard. The problem was that there didn't seem to be a regular pattern. Roxas' possession three years ago seemed to come out of nowhere . . . like the demon was just fucking around topside because it could.

According to Roxas however, his family's home had been strange for years. Alone in the house, he'd hear boards creaking in the attic, low whispers, and the hairs on the back of his neck would stand up when he started to feel like _something_ was watching him.

Roxas didn't like that house very much.

Then one Christmas his father asked him to go into the attic and bring down the box of lights for the house. He'd protested, saying he didn't like the attic and he'd heard something moving up there, but his father insisted it was probably just a squirrel and got testy, so Roxas gathered up his self-preservation and pulled the ladder down to get into the attic. He got the box, but as he was finding his footing on the ladder again he saw a pair of pale, luminescent eyes staring out at him from the dark – he froze and lost his balance, falling and landing on the carpet heavily.

A trip to the hospital and one broken elbow later, Roxas refused point-blank from that moment on to ever go near the attic again. Of course, after that he started seeing things. People on the street would stop and stare at him, then burst into flames. Moments later they were walking again, as if nothing had happened.

None of these omens or hints seemed to match up to anything in particular, which made it even more difficult to track down whatever the fuck it was – and even if they tracked it down, what then? Roxas had found himself asking that same question recently; what would they do once they found the son of a bitch? Trap it and send it back to hell? It could break free again. Kill it? The legendary Colt, of course, was rumored to be in the hands of those idiot Winchesters, so no chance there.

They were running blind, and Roxas knew it was only a matter of time before it caught up with them – he just hadn't calculated on what would happen when it finally did.

0o0

Roxas, motel key in one hand as he supported Axel, was only just beginning to understand just how much this demon wanted him to suffer.

He flipped the light switch on, illuminating the small room – two twin beds, nightstands, old tv, bathroom in the back – before shutting the door behind them and releasing Axel gingerly onto one of the beds. While Axel groaned in protest to the movement, Roxas threw their bags down on the other bed and got to work, rummaging through his bag at top speed.

Towels, water, gauze, tweezers.

This was going to suck royally.

Roxas slid his arm beneath Axel's shoulders once more, lifting him into a sitting position. "Bathroom," he grunted in explanation, guiding the redhead into the small, hopefully clean space and helping him into the bathtub.

Without much ceremony Roxas pulled Axel's t-shirt off, trying to ignore the large amounts of red that had stained the shirt and that was smeared all over his torso. He could clearly see the pockmarked holes in the redhead's epidermis where the buckshot had pierced the skin.

When he wielded the pair of tweezers and straddled the redhead's hips in the tub, preparing to get to work, Axel struggled against him weakly.

"Axel," Roxas said quietly, steel still in his voice, "Ax, I need you to hold still."

"Fuck no, get the fuck away from me with those," Axel responded wildly, trying to wriggle out of Roxas' grip to no avail.

Then Roxas said his name again, this time with a bit more deadly menace laced in; Axel froze and stared up at him, swallowing thickly and painfully. "We _have _to get those out," he ground out.

Axel had a vaguely wild, panicked look in his eye at those words. "Gimme something then," he muttered, grabbing at the leather belt wrapped around Roxas' waist.

Roxas pulled the belt loose and allowed Axel to sink his teeth into it. "Ok," he breathed, swallowing thickly, "here goes nothing."

Axel, for what it was worth, was pretty used to pain and therefore was a good sport for the most part. He'd been stabbed, clawed at, and bitten before – and most of the time he'd had to deal with shoddy stitches or Reno, who had no idea what to do in the face of a medical emergency.

Roxas had at least managed to pass Anatomy and Physiology with flying colors, so there was a better chance he understood the human body well enough to not make Axel bleed to death. Despite these reassurances, Roxas sticking the tweezers into the wounds to pull out bits and pieces of buckshot hurt like a motherfucker.

"I'm sorry," Roxas whispered apologetically as he pulled yet another bloody pellet from Axel's torso, the redhead's jaw clenching tightly to keep him from crying out. "Almost done."

Axel groaned and shifted minutely under him, studiously ignoring the little rivulets of blood streaming down his chest.

When the ordeal was over, Roxas' fingers were red with blood and Axel was sweating profusely, breathing deep in relief that it was done with. Roxas pulled away, feeling helpless and unsure of the next step. He poured water over the wounds to wash away the blood, then started wrapping Axel's chest up in gauze. Blood spotted through as he worked; Axel almost reluctantly released Roxas' belt from between his teeth, breathing out a single word, "Fuck."

Roxas got him up once again and brought Axel back to one of the beds, setting him down gingerly against the sheets. Axel groaned and hissed at him, glaring out of one eye as he laid down in the hopes of relaxing for a bit. The blond paused, glancing briefly at his bloodstained hands nervously; then he hurried back into the bathroom to wash his hands clean and run the shower to rinse out the red blossoms of blood still in the bathtub.

When he came back, Axel was looking a bit more at ease as he rested against the pillows. Roxas engaged all the available locks on the door, laid salt down on the windowsills and beneath the door, going through all his usual motions to keep them safe from attack. Then he pulled his jeans off and settled into the other bed, knowing he was too agitated and restless to really get any sleep.

"Hey Rox," Axel grunted, breaking him out of his trance.

"Mmm," he responded.

"You kind of suck at playing 'Operation.'"

"Thanks, Axel. I'll remember that next time you need me to pull bullets out of you. I'll just drop you off at the ER and _you_ can figure out how to pay the bill."

Axel ignored that response. "We still have Vicodin?"

With a short exhale of breath Roxas stood again and rummaged through the bag of plastic prescription bottles until he found one with the right label. "There's two left."

"Hand 'em over."

Roxas rolled his eyes. "Here," he said, handing over the pills, which Axel swallowed dry. "Don't wake me up when you're high."

"Yeah, yeah." Axel settled a little deeper into the comforter very, very carefully. Roxas caught him wince once or twice.

Roxas stripped down to his undershirt and boxers and dropped face-first onto his own bed. Before he fell unconscious Roxas heard Axel mutter a soft "thanks."

0o0

Waking up was disorienting; the light coming in through the window indicated that it was late morning, maybe even noon, and there was no solid presence against his back like he was used to. Axel was a warmth leech who gravitated in his sleep to the nearest body, and his absence immediately snapped Roxas out of his dozing and sent his heart racing. He sat up quickly, taking in the room around him and desperately searching for any sign of Axel.

"m' over here, babe," Axel said quietly from a few feet away.

Roxas whipped his head around swiftly to see Axel propped up against the art deco headboard. "Sorry," he muttered. "Just freaked me out a little."

"I knoooowwwww," Axel whined, pouting and oh yes, there was one clearly empty pill bottle on the bed beside him. "You're too far away."

"What the hell did you take?" Roxas huffed. "If you poisoned yourself, I'm not making any deals to bring you back," he warned.

"Pills," Axel answered dreamily, eyes fully dilated. "Happy pills. No-pain pills."

Roxas eyed the stained makeshift bandage covering part of Axel's chest. "We should change that bandage. How are you feeling?"

"That's a silly question baby, I took pills!"

Roxas plucked one of the bottles off Axel's bed. _Percocet._ "What else did you take?" he asked suspiciously.

"Jack," Axel giggled.

Roxas' palm met his face with a small slap. "I hate you sometimes."

"I love you too."

"Maybe I'll go get us some breakfast," Roxas concluded with a sigh. It would probably be a good idea to get himself out of the room for a little bit. "What would you like?"

Axel stuck his lower lip out. "Bring me pie?"

"Wha-NO."

"Roxas, I got shot. I'd like some pie."

In the end, Axel's prominent pout and the puppy dog eyes won him over. Once he was out of the room he pulled out his new cell phone and started to look for a diner that might have Axel's pie. He pressed the number two on his speed dial and held the phone to his ear, waiting for the other party to pick up.

After only two rings the other line clicked and Reno's voice drawled from the other side, "Whadda you want, kid?"

"Well hello to you too Reno," Roxas sighed. "I need some help."

"Talk to me."

"It found us again yesterday."

There was a pause as Reno realized it was serious. "That so? I take it you both made it out alright?"

"Axel's currently strung out on painkillers and whiskey thanks to some buckshot."

"It _shot_ at you guys?"

"Would've taken his head off if we weren't paying attention."

Roxas heard him mutter something that sounded like _idiots_ before he cleared his throat. "What do you need?"

"This all started back at my house in Michigan. If I give you the address, can you do some recon for me and send whatever you can to our computer?"

"Sure, kid. How long has it been since you've been to the house?"

"Almost four years."

"I can tell you right now," Reno muttered, the faint sound of typing in the background, "no one's lived in the house since your family skipped town."

"No one?" Roxas remembered the house well – even though he spent most of the time rather terrified, the house had been big and beautiful, cavernous with beautiful windows and a view of the nearby lake. Once they were gone, it should have sold easily.

"Nope. Absolutely nothing. Might be worth a trip to check out."

"I'll see what Axel's up to doing," Roxas said, unsure of the idea. He hadn't been back in years, and he wasn't sure he was ready yet.

"Alright. I'll send you what I find. Don't get yourselves killed, kid." Then Reno hung up.

Roxas snorted, closed his phone, and headed into the diner to grab Axel a couple different slices of pie to appease him.

When he returned to the motel, Axel was laid up watching The Golden Girls on their grainy TV, drinking a bottle of beer. Roxas paused and assessed whether this situation should concern him a little, only vaguely listening to one of the characters begin to tell a story about her childhood in Sicily before another shushed her and Axel burst into enthusiastic laughter.

In the end, Roxas decided it might just be the pills. "I got your pie," he sighed.

Axel looked over at him and his face immediately brightened. "You brought my pie!"

"Of course I brought your pie. And then some actual food," he amended, pulling out his own breakfast sandwich. "I called Reno, too."

"Ah," Axel intoned wisely, digging into the banana cream pie first. "That would explain why you look like you're ready to punch random pedestrians. Ill-advised, by the way."

"I was thinking-"

"Also ill-advised," Axel mumbled.

"I was _thinking_," Roxas reiterated, "about how this whole thing started."

"Your house in Michigan."

"Exactly. That's where everything started – the visions, the general aura of badness, the strange noises, you get the picture. I asked Reno to pull anything up about it and send it to us."

"And you needed Reno to do this?"

"Considering I've got a bundle of _you_ to take care of and I'm not exactly Lisbeth Salander, yes."

Axel shrugged, moving on to the next piece after the banana cream one was devoured and letting his attention waver back to the Golden Girls. "You think he'll come up with anything?"

"So far, we know that my house is still empty. It's been on the market for years now, but no one's buying. Could mean something."

"You want to go back to Michigan."

"I think maybe we should look into my old house," Roxas ventured. "We don't really know what else to do, or what it wants, or really anything at all. So I'm thinking . . . that might be a good place to start."

"Or it might be a trap," Axel countered, ever optimistic, around a mouthful of apple pie.

"_Or_ we might find something to work off of. We can do this all day – yes it might be a trap, but it could also give us some leads about where to even begin. Please, Axel?"

The redhead spent a good long time chewing that one particular piece of pie before finally nodding. "Yeah fine, I guess maybe we can head in that direction.

Where the hell did you live again?"

0o0

The next morning an email from Reno, giving them some time to sort through the information and articles the other redhead had provided. Axel, having already showered and gotten his bandage changed, offered to get a head start while Roxas took his own shower. When he finally emerged twenty minutes later, Axel was bent over the laptop at the table, reading intently.

"Hey Rox, come take a look at this," Axel murmured, beckoning him over without even looking up. Once Roxas was leaning over the desk beside him Axel presented him with a page from a newspaper archive dating back to the sixties. "So, the people who owned the house before your parents are completely MIA. But the ones before them are in here – these three," he said, pointing to a picture of a family, all posing out in front of his house.

The parents, when Roxas saw the picture, meant nothing to him. It was the image of the teenage boy in the photo, short and skinny and with wildly spiky hair that caught his attention. The boy's eyes, large and pixilated, seemed to break free of the picture on their own.

"Ok," Roxas said, nudging Axel on.

"In 1966, some incidents were reported at the home. Odd ones – the newspaper doesn't specify. Then one day, this boy's best friend killed himself. A few weeks later, this kid walked in on his parents as they too committed suicide." Axel flipped to another headline. "Kid checks himself into a mental facility and freaks the staff out royally – again, nonspecific – before committing suicide in his room too."

"Death followed him," Roxas mused pityingly. "You see his necklace in that first picture? He's wearing a pentacle."

Axel scrolled back to the first picture. "Well what do you know. You thinking maybe he was just being a little fashion-forward or maybe he knew what they were supposed to do?"

"What, like he might've been a hunter?" Roxas asked incredulously.

"All things are possible in this world, babe. He could have been a hunting hobbyist."

"Kind of young for a hunter," Roxas commented. "Even if his parents were."

"We all start somewhere," Axel huffed.

"But something got to him. Something started killing everyone around him."

"Only they killed themselves, remember? Maybe they were being haunted."

"Or it was made to look like suicide."

"You always have to make things complicated," Axel huffed. "But maybe you're right."

"What's this kid's name?"

"Sora. Sora Graham. Born in 1949, died in 1967."

0o0

It took them two days to get to their destination in Michigan – two rather stressful days, since Axel was still rather uncomfortable and paranoid about Roxas driving his baby for long periods of time. Not that Axel could have driven as it was, given his still-healing torso. They'd only been able to find a hotel one night, and the second one was spent with them curled up together in the back seat of the Camero, trying to maintain comfort and warmth. When Roxas announced that they'd arrived outside the Bingham Farms area, Axel was ready to get out, stretch his legs, and take over driving. Roxas' hometown was small and rural, home to under a thousand people. There were tiny coffee shops, mom-and-pop restaurants, and other small stores lining the main road that swept through the downtown. As he drove through the downtown area to look for a motel, Axel eyed everything suspiciously as they passed and shifting taller in his drivers' seat; Roxas noticed his aloofness and raised an eyebrow.

"Quit posturing," he muttered to his companion.

"I'm not posturing. I'm observing."

"Whatever. There's a motel over on your right."

Axel followed his directions and got a room for them to drop everything off before running off to investigate. Roxas let him handle the transaction, staying under the radar as much as possible. He was starting to feel tense and anxious about being back in his hometown after everything that had happened years ago – and wondered whether anyone would recognize him or go out of their way to accost them. He hoped for neither of those options.

Motel room acquired and bags left behind, Roxas agreed to give Axel a little tour of Bingham Farms before heading over to his old house to take a preliminary look around. No one seemed to recognize him – or if they did, they didn't say anything. Roxas figured that most of the people he went to school with might be away at college by now, and with regular school in session he didn't have to worry about teachers or anyone else.

"You ok?" Axel nudged him with his elbow as they walked down the street in the direction of Roxas' old place. "You're quiet."

"Nervous," Roxas muttered. "I haven't seen a lot of people in a long time."

"Well we'll worry about you socializing later. This case belongs to you. It was your house, your experience, so it's your hunt."

"You really going to be my second on this?"

Axel nodded his affirmative. "I'm at a bit of a physical disadvantage right now, so yeah. I'll do whatever you want."

"Alright," Roxas breathed, feeling a bit more relieved. Then he stopped walking, turning to stare at an older house that might have been majestic if it had been well-maintained. The paint was peeling, several windows had been boarded up, and the 'For Sale' sign looked like it had long been neglected. "This is it."

Axel paused to take in the freestanding house. "You've got to be kidding me."

"What?"

"Your house – it's like a set piece from the Amityville Horror or something."

Roxas' face twisted unpleasantly. "I wonder if something is still in there."

"If my creeped-out vibes are reliable at all, I'll venture a 'hell yes' there's something still in there," Axel snorted.

"You know I always trust your vibes."

"Excuse me?"

The owner of that voice, pleasant and light and feminine, had approached from behind so quietly neither Axel nor Roxas had heard her in the slightest. Both whipped around – Roxas reached for his handgun on reflex – to survey the newcomer. She was almost Roxas' height, petite with wide blue eyes and long blonde hair; there was something very serene and knowing about her that piqued Axel's curiosity. Roxas on the other hand, seemed paralyzed.

The young woman, however, seemed even more pleased once she saw Roxas' face. "Oh Roxas, I thought it might've been you. Have you come to finish the job?" she asked seriously, eyeing both Roxas and Axel in turn.

"What job?" Axel asked, recovering quicker.

The young woman balked. "That house has been crawling with terrible things since Roxas left. Isn't that why you're here?" she asked, studying them even closer. "We've been waiting for you to come back."


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Crossroad  
>Pairing: AxelRoxas

Warnings: Supernatural mash-up, language, allusions to sex, innuendo, demonic possession, death.  
>Rating: PG-13R

**Beta: ** the lovely mongoosestar  
>AN: Continuation of a charity fic for pro_kira, who decided she wanted the boys as hunters in the world of Supernatural.  
>Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts, but I do get a kick out of writing for the fandom. I also don't own Supernatural or Final Fantasy.<p>

**Summary: **When Axel says 'the past came back to haunt us,' he means it literally. – High school reunions were never really Axel's thing.

Part 3

When Roxas was young, he and Namine had been friends. They'd grown up together in Bingham Farms, playing tag and hide-and-seek together with the other children from the neighborhood down by the lake. While he and Hayner raced after each other and played rambunctious games with Pence and Olette, Namine always sat serenely at the foot of the tree, her drawing pad in hand and crayons littered all around her. In her company, Roxas always felt at ease and relaxed, that things were . . . ok. He didn't really get that when he was a kid, but he appreciated it later on. They all grew up close and formed a tightly-knit group wherein everyone balanced each other out. Hayner was full of energy and mischief, and sometimes misplaced affection; Olette was spunky and a hard taskmaster when it came to their school projects; Pence was laid-back and totally at ease with everything, not caring at all when Hayner got upset over something silly because he knew it would blow over in about five minutes.

They were young and the world was bright and shining, beckoning to them like a playground – and they were happy.

Namine's drawings became darker when they were ten. She looked at Roxas differently, eyes wider and sometimes she'd flinch, like she could see something he couldn't. Roxas looked over at her sketchpad one day and saw inexplicable things, demons and ghostly apparitions, and scary looking monsters – blood and bright scary red eyes and claws, and Roxas felt scared. Roxas asked her what she was drawing; Namine shook her head furiously and said, "I don't know." Then Roxas' parents saw the drawings and thought the worst. Being God-fearing people who assumed Namine was disturbed somehow, they forbade Roxas from ever seeing her or talking to her again – and Roxas, being a good parent-fearing child, obeyed.

He endured her painful gaze from across the school playground when she finally stopped chasing him; Roxas had told her, speaking more to his sneakers than to Namine's face, what his parents had said. Rather than bursting into tears and running away, Namine merely nodded solemnly and turned away.

She became a peripheral figure in his school life in the years that followed; Namine withdrew from her friendships with Olette, Pence, and Hayner, much to their dismay, and over time the ache in his heart was forgotten. They grew up tall and gangly and nervous, all fumbling for their place in the middle and high school hierarchy. It was at this point that Roxas came to acknowledge his sexuality, when he developed feelings for another boy and kissed him one day when they were alone in the playground kept aside for the elementary school kids.

Namine had been relegated to the far reaches of Roxas' memories for several years when, as he started to hear and see things around the house, she was suddenly _there_ and Roxas felt like an idiot staring at his childhood friend. She looked almost exactly the same with her crisp white dress, white flip-flops and ever-present sketch pad, blonde hair brushed sleekly to the side of her head. And . . . there it was again. Namine was staring right back at him, wide-eyed and frightened, like she could _see something_ that no one else could. But Namine had said nothing, and Roxas had felt too awkward to approach a girl whose heart he'd broken as a child because of his overzealous parents. But she never spoke to him, she never got the chance.

Only a few months later, Roxas and his parents would leave their home and make a jarring move to New Orleans to escape their house, and Roxas was sure he'd never see any of his friends ever again. Especially after the demon found him – Roxas was sure it would kill him.

And yet, despite everything, here was Namine right in front of him – like she'd been waiting for his return the entire time.

"You know Roxas?" Axel asked after the briefest moment of recovery, flashing her a sly grin to cover for Roxas' obvious social paralysis.

Namine nodded, smiling knowingly between Axel and Roxas, who was standing stock still a bit behind Axel. "Yes, we were friends as children," she answered, her voice melodious and light just like Roxas remembered. Namine looked over at Roxas, her expression betraying none of the sadness it once had when they were younger. Now, she simply looked relieved and happy to see him. "I'm so glad you've come back, Roxas."

"Namine," Roxas whispered, voice cracking slightly.

The young woman visibly brightened and rushed forward, enveloping Roxas into a crushing hug. She pressed her face into the crook of his neck, murmuring, "I'm so glad you're ok. I thought. I thought it would kill you."

Roxas allowed the hug for another few moments, returning the embrace before pushing her away gently by her arms. "You thought what would kill me, Namine?"

The other woman pulled away, her pleasant expression retreating. She cast a brief glance over at the house. "The dark. It . . . I don't know its name. It meant to kill you, Roxas."

"It tried," Axel interjected. "Tried and failed."

"It possessed me when we got to Louisiana," Roxas explained. "Nearly killed me, but Axel dragged him out."

"You're an exorcist?" Namine asked with a raised eyebrow.

Axel tried to cross his arms over his chest, but aborted that idea when he really couldn't move that much. "It's a hobby," he deadpanned. "How did you know what was going on? You saw this thing?"

Namine nodded hastily. "I . . . I can see a lot of things."

"You can see them – demons."

"Even when they're . . . pretending to be someone," she answered, looking away.

"You know when someone's being possessed," Axel said. "I've only heard of that happening-"

"When someone's close to death?" Namine interjected, meeting both of their gazes evenly. "I have a heart defect; I've been in and out of the hospital since I was a child. The doctors say it's a miracle I'm still alive, and yet – I still see these things."

"I'm sorry, Namine," Roxas whispered. "I didn't know." She'd never really played with the rest of them when they were younger, Roxas remembered. She let them run around rambunctiously while Namine sat comfortably against the tree. Roxas couldn't recall her playing any sports or even going to gym class with them now.

"It's alright," she said, waving her hand. "It doesn't matter. What does matter is that you're back, and you're going to finish the job here."

"Well, to be honest," Roxas hedged, trying to ignore the deepening frown on her face, "I had no idea the house was still being affected. Axel and I, we're trying to track the demon that nearly killed me, the one you saw hunting me. I thought maybe we'd start from scratch, where it all began. But now you're saying it's still haunted, that something is still in there?"

Namine nodded vigorously. "There's definitely something in there."

"Have you gone in to get a look?" Axel asked.

Namine paused and glared at him, giving him the most hilarious 'what are you, stupid?' looks Roxas had ever seen. "Of course, send the girl with the heart condition into a haunted house – if she dies of fright we've got ourselves a case. No, I haven't gone in smart stuff, someone else did."

"Who?" Roxas asked. "Are they still around?"

"Hayner went in," Namine sighed. "Hayner went in, and he saw something, I'm not sure what. He's still around, but I don't know how he'll react to seeing you."

All of the blood had drained from Roxas' face the second Hayner's name fell from Namine's lips; his throat felt completely dry and his heart hammered away in his throat. "Why would he do that?" he asked hoarsely.

Namine shrugged. "He wanted to know. He was worried about you."

"Wait," Axel butted in. "Who's this Hayner you're talking about?"

Namine and Roxas exchanged meaningful glances. "Hayner was Roxas' boyfriend," she explained with an exasperated sigh. "Before Roxas and his family left."

Axel's attention snapped to Roxas, who was being strangely silent. "I didn't know you had a boyfriend."

"Yes, I had a boyfriend before you," Roxas answered. "We went to school together."

"Did you fuck him?" Axel asked bluntly, completely ignoring their now-blushing female companion in favor of his rather jealous nature.

"Would it be a problem if I had?" Roxas asked dangerously, raising a blond eyebrow. "It was four years ago, Axel – get over it now."

"Sorry, just, you know, trying to picture you with someone else is weirding me out."

"Not everyone learns about sex from bad pornos and cheesy vampire romances, Axel. Yes, we had sex. But you and I have been together for three years and I really don't think my early experiences have any place in this case."

Namine coughed, bringing their attention back to her and her rather vivid blush. "You might want to talk with Hayner before you go in. That way you know what you might be getting yourself into."

Axel huffed, but Roxas nodded hesitantly. "It's true, Axel, and you know it." Axel grumbled something in response. "Where's he living now? He's not still at his parents' house, is he?"

Namine shook her head. "He and Pence are living in a condo a little outside of town."

"Are he and Pence. . ." Roxas asked with a very raised eyebrow.

"Oh, no," she giggled. "Just roommates. Go, Roxas. Talk to him. And give me a call when you're done, give me your phone."

Roxas reached into his pocket automatically, then grimaced. "I don't have one. Axel?"

Axel sighed and handed Namine his cell phone; she quickly typed in her name and phone number so he could call her when they'd spoken to Hayner. They parted ways soon after that, with Axel still strangely silent even when they got in the car.

"Well that was really weird," Axel sighed, slumping in the passenger side seat and adjusting his makeshift sling as Roxas started the Camero.

"We _live_ in a world of weird, and _that_ rated pretty highly on your list?" Roxas asked incredulously. "Namine's an old friend, and honestly what she was saying explains a lot to me."

Axel huffed quietly, but didn't say anything otherwise.

"Alright, spill," Roxas said sternly, giving Axel a hard look as he drove. "What's going on in that crazy head of yours?"

Axel shrugged flippantly. "Oh, you know, I thought this was going to be a simple job – go into your creepy haunted old house and poke ghostly things with sticks. But no, it has to be emotionally complicated by the fact that we have to visit your old boyfriend. That you never told me about."

Roxas paused before answering. "Are you twelve? Because if you're really going to be that immature about this I think we better rethink this partnership. It's not sexy, Axel."

"Fuck you, Roxas. I didn't think I was going to be having this whole little high school reunion with all of your buddies."

"I was hoping we wouldn't run into anyone either, but you know what? Shit happens. Deal with it."

"Right, like you did? Your family skipped town and you left your boyfriend behind, someone who cared about you. When you came to, you never said a word about him – you wanted to pretend this Hayner kid didn't exist, and as far as I knew there was no one – HEY WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?"

Roxas had pulled a tight turn into a side street, making the wheels on the Camero squeal in protest before stopping short hard enough to jostle them. "If this is about me being with someone else before you, you really need to cut that shit out right. Now. Does it really matter? Does it really matter that much to you that I slept with this guy? Because it was nothing to be jealous of, we both sucked at it."

Axel scowled. "You said nothing, Roxas. Nothing. Is that how you're gonna be with me? Are you going to pretend I never existed one day?"

"You want to know why I never said anything? Why I didn't ask to be brought back here as soon as you pulled that fucker out of me? We broke up. I broke up with him before we left. I knew, we both knew, we weren't right for each other in the long run, but it was fun while it lasted. I didn't want him to get hurt. I wanted him to stay out of it."

"And now you've got someone already in the business, so you don't care."

"Are you even listening? I didn't want this to happen to you. I never thought it would go after you, I thought it was too scared. But we're both in this business now, we're both constantly at risk. Don't tell me I don't care, Axel. Don't you dare."

Axel braced himself to keep arguing, but deflated at the last second, looking down at his knees. "I'm sorry. I –"

"Am a possessive bastard?" Roxas finished for him, giving Axel a meaningful look. "Give me a break, Axel. Please?"

"Yeah," Axel murmured. "I'm sorry. Even if we are still going to see your ex-boyfriend," Axel grumbled.

"And you have nothing to worry about," Roxas snapped. "So chill."

"You really mean that?"

"Yes. I like you more," Roxas said, pulling back out onto the road and down towards the condo development Namine had described.

0o0

When Roxas pulled up in front of their destination, Axel cleared his throat. "Do you want to go in and do this alone?"

Roxas paused and shook his head. "No. You're coming in with me," he said, stepping out of the car.

"Wooo," Axel cheered softly and unenthusiastically, also stepping out of the car.

The condominium was pretty generic – a thin segment of a long row of cloned housing, single-car garage with a Jeep parked out in front, flat grey siding, builder-grade windows . . . Roxas found it hard to imagine Hayner settling on something like this, but meager student budgets probably pushed him and Pence to that extreme. He stepped up to the front door and knocked, loudly and clearly; Axel came up behind him on the steps.

"Just a minute!" they both heard a voice call from beyond the portal, and moments later it was abruptly opened – revealing a tall, thick-set young man with cropped black hair and wide brown eyes that still betrayed a bit of boyishness. He – Pence, Roxas recalled fondly – was wearing a Michigan State football jersey, jeans, and a dumbstruck expression. "Holy shit," he breathed, staring plainly.

"Pence," Roxas greeted, giving him a nervous smile.

"ROXAS?" Pence shouted, losing his volume control. "Holy shit, it's you!" he shouted happily, barreling out the door and pulling the blond into a tight hug. "Holy crap!"

Roxas chuckled, returning the hug. "How've you guys been, man?"

"Three years, dude, where the fuck have you been?" Pence demanded.

"I promise I'll-"

"And who's this?" the other man asked, a bit more subdued, when Axel stepped up.

"Axel," the redhead responded. "Can we come in? I promise he'll explain everything." Roxas shot him a dirty look, and Axel amended, "I'll help too, yes."

"Uh," Pence hedged. "Yeah, sure, come on in. Hayner's downstairs playing video games, I'll go get him. Wait up there," he said, pointing to the top of the stairs.

As Pence disappeared down into the basement, Axel and Roxas ascended the stairs into what might've been the living room at one point but now appeared to be functioning as the center of a fantasy football ring. There were display boards with various people's names, and those of their chosen players with scores and manuals, enough to make Roxas scratch his head. They heard footsteps coming back up a few minutes later, and turned to face them just as Pence and Hayner mounted the last steps.

Hayner was almost exactly like Roxas remembered; moderately tall but now a bit more built up, his tan shirt and cargos, heavily styled dirty blond hair, and bright blue eyes hadn't changed. Even the scowl was still the same.

"Hi, Hayner," Roxas said casually.

Hayner just stared for a moment, wearing a confused expression and stuffing his hands into the back pockets of his cargos. "What's up, man," he said belatedly. "Long time, no see."

"Tell me about it," Roxas snorted.

"Who's Red?"

"This is Axel," Roxas said, covering Axel's snort. "He's my partner."

"Work partner, or . . ." Hayner prodded curiously.

"Both," Roxas said proudly, ignoring Axel's smug expression. "I'm sorry it's been so long since I've been back, I really am. I should have come by sooner."

"We weren't worried, man," Hayner answered cavalierly.

"Uh huh," Roxas agreed sarcastically. "Axel and I work together, we do paranormal investigations." He watched Hayner's expression darken, but Pence's was more intrigued.

"Like the show? Ghost Adventures?"

"Think less douchey," Axel butted in.

"Ah, ok."

"We thought we'd come check out my old house, see what was really there," Roxas said, trying to sound neutral. "We saw Namine earlier, and she told us you'd gone in. That you'd seen something."

"Maybe," Hayner answered, expression stony.

"Something's in there, kid," Axel said harshly. "We know it. But we wanted to talk to you, figure out what you saw so we can go in there and hopefully not get ourselves killed. So will you please enlighten us?"

Hayner scowled at Axel, crossing his arms over his chest. "Fine. I saw lots of things. But it was a few years ago, so I'm a little fuzzy on the exact details."

Axel and Roxas sat down on the couches; Axel pulled out his hunting journal, and the blond seated himself beside him with a little notepad and a pen, waiting for Hayner to sit down. Once he did, Roxas launched into questions, trying to determine what might be inside the house. Hayner's descriptions and recollections were pretty fuzzy, but enough for Axel to figure out they probably had a nasty poltergeist on their hands.

"That shouldn't be too difficult," Axel commented lowly.

"Purify the house, exorcise it, definitely doable."

"You mean to say you've dealt with worse?" Hayner deadpanned.

Axel drew himself up in his seat. "Hell yeah. Djinn, ghosts, poltergeists, skinwalkers, werewolves, vampires, we've dealt with them all. This'll be a piece of cake."

Hayner looked at Roxas like he'd never seen him before in his life. Maybe, Roxas had to allow, he did come back a different person. The day that demon actually possessed him had been the death of that Roxas, the one Hayner and Namine had grown up with. Roxas knew he was still the same person, but in more ways than one, nearly being picked off by a demon had sparked a change in him – as far as he was concerned, it was for the better and that was really all they needed to know.

Roxas and Axel stood, and Hayner looked up at them expectantly. "Can I go with you guys?"

"No," they both answered flatly and in unison. Hayner looked taken aback; Roxas shook his head.

"Sorry man, just let us take care of it."

Hayner recovered, shrugging nonchalantly and standing, stuffing his hands back into his pockets. "That's fine. I'll catch you later though, right?"

Roxas nodded, and he and Axel headed back out to the Camero. Takeout acquired, they checked into their motel and started setting out their supplies to make the purifying bags. Axel was setting out herbs and other integral pieces of the bags since he couldn't make use of both hands quite yet. When the bags were made up, Roxas thought about moving on to their supply of guns and making sure they were ready for the coming hunt, but hedged.

"Hey," Roxas nudged him as Axel took a one-handed bite of his burger. "You should let me look at that, we'll see how it's healing."

Axel looked at him warily for a moment, then nodded. "It hasn't been feeling as bad. Definitely still sore, but more doable. It might even be mobile soon," he said, putting his half-eaten burger down and allowing Roxas to untie his sling and remove his shirt gingerly. Even more carefully, Roxas started to remove the bandages wrapped around Axel's chest; the gauze was not nearly as bloodstained as it had been a few days ago, but Roxas didn't want to take any chances with those wounds. They had largely scabbed over and would most likely scar once they'd healed, but they were no longer bleeding freely and appeared to be uninfected. The skin still looked red and raw where it had been torn, some areas looking more bruised than others. Roxas pulled out the antibiotic cream and smeared some of it over the healing wounds, making Axel wince.

"They look like they're healing well," Roxas commented, satisfied with his nursing abilities. "Just don't agitate them." Roxas started wrapping Axel's chest again, this time with clean gauze.

"You mean, like this?" Axel asked, grabbing Roxas' wrist once it was done wrapping him up and tugging him closer, pulling Roxas into a hard kiss dominated by teeth and tongue.

It felt like it had been ages since they'd come together like this, between the running and Axel being hurt and high to drown out the pain. Roxas moaned into his mouth and moved to climb into Axel's lap; instead Axel surged forward, pulling Roxas up with him, and pushed the blond's back up against the wall beside their bed. Roxas moved with him fluidly, allowing Axel to pin him to the wall while he wrapped his legs around his lover's wide hips. He slid his arms around either side of Axel's head, anchoring himself while the redhead slid his hand between them and worked at the button and fly of Roxas' jeans. Axel's fingers wrapped around his length deftly moments later, drawing a low groan from Roxas' mouth that made the redhead shudder.

Roxas rode him with an almost vicious determination, laying Axel out on the bed for him to see as his hips moved fast and hard, bringing them both to orgasm in a sweaty tangle of limbs. He panted against Axel's collarbone in the aftermath, kissing the exposed bit of his breastbone while Axel's breath ruffled his own hair.

"We should go on vacation," Roxas mused. "After this case. It's been a while since we've had one, hasn't it?"

Axel muttered something like an affirmation, and kissed the crown of Roxas' head. "We will. Promise. After this is done."

0o0

Axel and Roxas arrived at the blond's old house about two hours later, armed with as much gear as they needed and a bit more for an unruly poltergeist. Roxas loaded his shotgun with rock salt and put the purifying bags into a pouch, while Axel mounted a bike light, usually meant for a helmet, on top of his head and turned it on.

When Roxas saw it, he smirked. "You look ridiculous."

"That's not what you were saying earlier," Axel teased, not caring whether he looked like a doofus or not. He needed his free hand to hold some sort of weapon as opposed to a flashlight.

Roxas rolled his eyes, only teasing Axel. "Alright, that's everything. Let's get a move on."

The front door was locked, which was no surprise, and with no key to unlock it Roxas resorted to brute force and kicked the door in. Axel turned his headlamp on, shining its pale light into the dark hall. Moonlight filtered in through the giant window at the opposite end of the hall, where Roxas remembered their living room had been. Both light sources caught multitudes of dust motes drifting through the atmosphere lazily. The house was quiet, only a gentle creak of the foundation settling as they walked in. The real estate agents seemed to have given up on the house long ago, allowing thick layers of dust to settle on the carpets, the once shiny wood floors, the banisters . . . everything.

"Something scared them off," Axel noted. "They abandoned this house, Rox."

"A poltergeist would do that."

"Yeah, sure, but . . . Hayner was in here three years ago. A lot can happen in three years, and I don't know if all we have here is a poltergeist. Spirits like that attract bigger things, you know. Pilot fish follow alongside sharks, and you had one hell of a shark here."

Roxas ignored him, stepping inside and keeping his shotgun raised. Something was definitely here. He could feel a chill across his skin, felt the hair on his neck stand on end; Roxas could feel eyes on him, even when he knew the house was physically empty aside from himself and Axel. It was the things he couldn't see that put him on edge.

They made it through most of the first floor without any trouble, though the feeling of being watched stayed with Roxas the whole time. Axel didn't say anything, but his instincts were telling him the same thing – something was watching from the shadows in the house. When they moved up to the second floor, things started to happen. When they reached the top of the stairs and turned down the hall, the door directly to the right of said stairs – which was only slightly ajar, creaked open. Something moved in the dark; the darkness itself was shifting, transforming, mutating into different shapes that nearly didn't catch Axel's eye.

"Roxas," Axel hissed, sounding alarmed. "Something's here. There's something moving. I can't make it out."

But Roxas was staring into a bathroom, stock still and eyes wide and ignoring him; the shotgun was shaking in his grip.

"What is it?" Axel hissed coming up beside him; his own eyes widened when he saw what had frightened Roxas. There was a word being drawn in the dust covering the bathroom mirror by a finger that wasn't there, just over where Roxas' reflection appeared.

S – O – R, and then finally, as Axel watched, A.

"Shit," Axel muttered. It started writing again, this time faster. Despite his focus on the mirror, Axel heard something scuttling off to the side, saw a dark shape move out of the corner of his eye. He gripped his iron pipe tightly. Roxas was still staring at the mirror in horror as SORA appeared multiple times in the dust, nearly covering the mirror. Another scratching sound, and Axel saw the name being carved into the bathroom wallpaper in a messy scrawl, the letters appearing to pour out of the mirror and start to cover the bathroom walls. "Rox, it's time to-" Axel was suddenly cut off as he felt something grip him by the back of his neck and propel him backwards until he hit the wall, hard. He grunted, feeling one of two of the healing wounds open from the sheer force of it; he looked up just in time to see Roxas backing away from some shape rising out of the darkness pouring out onto the floor – and it was murmuring that name harshly, gnashing teeth and swiping at Roxas' legs with claws.

Axel recovered from his own attack quickly, grimacing at the pain but still he sprinted towards Roxas and grabbed his wrist, tugging him away just in time. They sprinted down the stairs and practically flew out the door, landing in the dried grass out in front of the house, panting. Axel winced, gently touching his shoulder and hissing.

"Hey Axel?" Roxas prompted in a shaky voice.

"Mmmm."

"I think we might have a problem," Roxas panted, looking over at Axel with a dumbstruck expression. "That wasn't a poltergeist."

"Nope," Axel panted, straining. "I'd say we're actually kind of screwed, darling."


	4. Chapter 4 - flashback

**Title: **Crossroads Beginnings

**Pairing: **Axel/Roxas

**Warnings: **demonic possession, creepy things

**Rating: **PG13

**A/N: **written for the Dark Month, this takes place prior to the timeline presented here, before Roxas is possessed and is moved to New Orleans.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Kingdom Hearts or Supernatural.

**Summary: **Roxas remembers the time before he was a hunter only vaguely.

Long before Roxas rode shotgun in a heavily modified Camero beside his insane and insanely gorgeous monster hunter of a boyfriend, he was a boy terrified of the things that only appeared on the periphery of his vision. He feared the glowing red eyes peering back at him from the darkness of his attic, feared the slow, creeping shadows across his walls, the soft sounds of feet – or something – skittering across the wood floor while he hovered between wakefulness and dreaming.

Roxas could barely remember it, but there was once a time when he was frightened of the dark. Before he lost consciousness and control, Roxas lived in fear. It's not an origin story Roxas likes to tell, because it makes him feel vulnerable and weak.

But we all start somewhere, don't we?

0o0

If there was one thing Roxas was absolutely certain of, it was that his house was haunted. There was no other way to explain it.

On more than one occasion while downstairs watching TV, he turned the volume all the way down to listen to the sounds of footsteps – slow, soft, and deliberate – walking across the floorboards, even when he knew for sure no one else was home. But when he told his parents, his father insisted that it was the sound of the house settling.

Roxas only heard those sounds when he was alone in the house. Those were the only times he felt anxious, because when he was all alone the hairs on the back of his neck would suddenly stand up, a leftover primal reaction what whispered in his nerves, _someone is watching you_. Where Roxas had once slept sprawled out across his bed, half hanging over the edge in a deep sleep, he started sleeping curled up in a cocoon of blankets wrapped tightly around him in the center of the bed, with only his eyes and nose left uncovered and unprotected. It made him feel marginally safer.

0o0

It wasn't always this way, he remembered thinking. Roxas had lots of good memories of that house when he was young, and it wasn't until he crawled up the ladder to the attic when he was fifteen that things started going bad. He saw a pair of glowing eyes watching him from amongst a pile of sweatshirts, and the shock of the sight had sent him falling to the floor, where he broke his elbow.

Roxas never went up in the attic again, and soon after that Roxas started to feel unsettled in his own home. The little occurrences continued sporadically throughout the year, and Roxas tried to live a normal life beyond the weirdness he was experiencing. He came out to his parents (not the most pleasant experience, but they handled themselves well) and started dating a boy in his class, which distracted him and made him very happy.

For a while, Roxas thought that maybe things were getting better.

0o0

They got worse.

Things began to bother him so badly that others started to notice the changes in his behavior.

Hayner noticed it first, but initially he wrote it off as just a quirk of his boyfriend's. Roxas refused to do anything remotely sexual in his own house, and before Hayner could even think of getting his boyfriend's shirt off all the doors had to be shut and locked, along with the windows. Hayner kind of figured Roxas was nervous, because they were seventeen and fumbling around with each other's bodies, learning how to touch and make the other moan. Roxas didn't like being spooned, either; he was always the big spoon, wrapping himself around Hayner's body like a protective shield. Roxas never told him it was because the sensation of someone breathing on his neck terrified him to the very core of his being now.

He had no idea whether Namine was totally aware of what was happening because she hadn't spoken to him – or anyone, really – since elementary school, but he realized that she was watching him with wide, terrified eyes. She never approached him, but her gaze always seemed to shift between him and something just beyond him, or over Roxas' shoulder. He tried not to think about it.

Roxas was eating lunch with Pence and Olette when a man walking by on the street stopped, met his gaze, and promptly burst into flames. The man didn't even react to his spontaneous combustion, but Roxas, in Pence's words, 'flipped the fuck out.' By the time his friends had him calmed down, the fire was gone and the man was halfway down the street – and neither Pence nor Olette had any idea why Roxas was behaving in such a way. They seemed baffled by his description of the man bursting into flames, which left him wondering if he'd imagined the whole thing.

0o0

Roxas had thought for a long time that he was more or less safe in other people's houses. He'd never experienced anything strange while sleeping over Hayner's or Pence's, so it was a relief to be able to get out of his house and sleep in peace.

The first time he realized that he wasn't imagining things – that something was actually following, haunting him – was at Hayner's house. It was supposed to be a great night, with Hayner's parents away for their anniversary so they had the house to themselves, but they'd started fighting sometime after dinner. Roxas spent most of the next hour on the couch sulking, until Hayner tugged him up the stairs to his bedroom, begging forgiveness in the form of an enthusiastic blowjob. They fell asleep watching reruns of some cartoon, and Roxas felt relatively content until he woke in the middle of the night clutching his thigh as the muscles seemed to seize all at once. Roxas had experienced Charlie horses before, but nothing like this. Eventually it subsided, and the pain was numbed.

In the morning, after he rolled out of Hayner's bed and used the toilet, he found Hayner blatantly staring at him – but not in the way that usually excited him. It was horror and fear etched on his face, not lust. "Did I do that?" he asked, voice small and horrified.

Roxas was confused, and looked down to see what on earth Hayner was staring so morosely at. When he saw it, Roxas wanted to puke.

Right where the muscle cramp had occurred during the night, there was a deep, purpling bruise in the shape of a handprint, right across his upper thigh.

"Roxas, did I do that?" Hayner asked again, his tone higher and more fearful.

Roxas shook his head, bewildered, and left in a hurry not long after.

0o0

With the bruise still fresh on his thigh, Roxas did something he thought about doing ages ago: he went to the library.

He took out all the books he could on haunting and angry spirits – not that there were many in the first place. But none of the books seemed to mention all of the things that were happening to him, and he grew frustrated quickly.

(He didn't read the newspaper, so he had no idea that the surrounding counties had been experiencing strange storms and abnormal cattle deaths, signaling the arrival of something much more sinister than a ghost or a poltergeist. He never thought to use salt or holy water, though he was assured later that those might have only briefly hindered the demon.)

When he told his parents that he thought something was haunting him, Roxas watched as his parents exchanged vaguely terrified looks before they confessed that they had been experiencing some things too: they'd heard voices whispering terrible things, heard someone pacing the halls when no one else was home. They promised they would find a way to fix everything soon.

That night Roxas woke to find a figure burning on the ceiling over his bed. He screamed, staring into the blank holes where the figure's eyes should have been. By the time his parents came in to see what was the matter, the figure was gone.

0o0

Roxas broke up with Hayner the next day, and the day after his parents announced that they were moving to New Orleans at the end of the week.

Then he got sick. Roxas' temperature spiked, and he stayed curled up amongst blankets while his mother fed him broth. In his fever-ridden state, his vision blurred and he saw something move in the shadows of his room. It grinned from the darkness, red eyes glowing as it swayed to and fro, watching and waiting. More appeared as the night continued, but none were as big as the first.

_It is weak_, they whispered. _It is ours for the taking._

"No," Roxas murmured deliriously. "No, no no."

There was a low growling sound, and Roxas distinctly heard one say "No, it is mine."

Curled up within his blankets, Roxas rocked back and forth with his eyes squeezed shut as he muttered over and over the phrase, "monsters aren't real" – trying desperately to ignore the way his bed dipped as something climbed on the mattress and came towards him.

Then it spoke, and Roxas gasped for air in shock. It was right above him, mere inches from his face, but he dared not look. "Do you really think whispering that to yourself will make us go away?" it asked, voice low and sinister and everything his nightmares were made of.

Roxas bit through his lip as he fought back a sob, blood dripping down his face as he felt something grab his chin and force his mouth open. Thick smoke filled his esophagus and lungs, tasting strongly of sulfur and coal. He felt sick and horrified and disgusted all at once, and then all was dark.

Epilogue

The demon kept him under complete control, contorting and riding his body – his meatsuit, that's what the thing called him – to the brink of death and keeping him there, suspended and lethargic in a body thin from starvation and stress. When Roxas tried to fight, the demon beat him down until his soul was a badly damaged mess. He resigned himself to death, and was fully prepared to let go when a young priest arrived, unsolicited, and offered to exorcise the demon. Roxas looked at him and saw salvation in his electric green gaze and his earnest face, but the demon roiled within him and hijacked his mouth, hissing, "he's mine."

Though Axel was able to finally pull the demon from him, the darkness was never gone from his life – he just didn't fight it alone anymore.


End file.
